


Chasing the Starlight

by starktony (noblydonedonnanoble)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/starktony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel, Balthazar, Raphael and Anna have a band. After Castiel gets into an argument with Crowley, they need to find a new band manager and Anna brings Dean Winchester onto the scene.</p><p>Meanwhile, Gabriel is a sassy chef with his own restaurant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_If you’re looking for an in on the executive track of the music scene, you might just be in luck. Inside sources tell us that Castiel Milton—lead singer of the band_ The Seraphim _—got into a spat with band manager Mr. Crowley late last night. After an extended, heated discussion, Milton reportedly sent Crowley packing his bags. No definite reason has been provided as to the basis of their argument, but our sources state that Mr. Crowley and Mr. Milton had “professional disagreements.”_

_More information will be released as it becomes available._

\--

                When Gabriel opens the door, the first words out of Castiel’s mouth are, “ _Professional disagreements_? Really?”

                “Professional disagreements?” Gabe stands back to allow Castiel inside his apartment, innocent little grin playing across his face. If it were any of their other siblings, Cas might be able to take this bewilderment at face value. Unfortunately, it’s Gabriel, who’s notorious for revealing band secrets as long as the right reporter comes along (and the right reporter always seems to come along).

                “Don’t play dumb. I know you.” Castiel drops onto Gabe’s couch and makes a noble attempt at an angry expression.  “You, Balthazar and Anna are the only ones with whom I’ve discussed this, and they were fully prepared to let me handle everything. So that leaves you.”

                Gabe takes his time responding. He sits down across from Cas in a chair, fidgeting and apparently having a hard time getting settled. He pulls out a chocolate bar and undoes the wrapper so slowly that Castiel feels tempted to lean across the coffee table and smack him. Finally, after taking a bite he speaks. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand the implications here.”

                “Allow me to make it clearer: who the fuck did you sleep with this time, Gabriel?”

                “My, my, don’t get testy.” Gabe continues to nibble at his chocolate bar. “Besides, I’m fairly certain I didn’t even sleep with this one; it’s all a bit of a blur, to be honest.”

                “Do you find it funny that you’ll reveal your siblings’ deepest, darkest secrets to the first journalist who’ll buy you a drink?”

                “Hey, you’re the one who decided not to include me in the family band.”

                Cas groans and frowns at Gabe, exasperated. “Not that argument again. You’ve never been interested in playing music and you know it.”

                “One of you could have at least _asked_ …”

                “Would you have said ‘yes’?”

                “Well, no—“

                “There you go then.”

                The two of them maintain eye contact for a few seconds. Gabriel looks away first, shrugging his shoulders. “Look, Cassie, I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna talk about it, I swear. Honestly, I think you should be angrier with yourself for telling me.”

                “Don’t turn this around on me. You were at my apartment when he called; I asked you if maybe you could leave, and you waved me off. ‘Don’t worry!’ you said. ‘My lips are sealed!’ you said.” Cas sighs and runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly. “I’m just tired of having to figure a way out of the messes you make for us, Gabriel.”

                “Why don’t you let Anna fix this one, then? Or Raphael; I’m sure the press would love to talk with him.” They both snicker, imagining Raphael giving a death glare to anyone who asks a remotely stupid question (in other words, everyone). “Besides, you have a more important task at hand.”

                “Do I?”

                Gabe nods seriously. “You need to find a replacement for Crowley before the vultures descend. You realize that this could not possibly have happened at a worse time, right?”

                Castiel averts his brother’s eyes. “I can manage until I find a good replacement. Just last week, we went over a list of the venues we were considering for the tour. Booking them shouldn’t be too difficult to handle.”

                “Oh, right, okay.”

                “What?”

                “You.” Gabriel suddenly jumps up and begins pacing across the floor of his living room, gesturing wildly as he continues to speak. “You’re going to overextend yourself and I’m not going to stand by and let that happen; not again. You’re going to let Raphael and Anna give a story to the reporters, and then the four of you are going to meet and figure your shit out.”

                “Really. And you’re so sure of this because…?”

                “Because I’ll cater the meeting.”

                Castiel grimaces, and Gabriel grins.

\--

                _“It reached a point where he just wanted us to go in a different direction than we wanted to go,” says Anna Milton, drummer of_ The Seraphim _, the band that is currently causing such an uproar in the music community. “We harbor no feelings of ill will toward Mr. Crowley, and wish him all the best in his future endeavors.”_ […] _When asked about their future plans, keyboard player Raphael Milton states, “We are currently in the process of finding a new manager whose vision for the band more closely matches that which we have for ourselves.”_

\--

                For the first fifteen minutes of dinner, the Miltons make small talk. Gabriel interrogates Anna about her new boyfriend. They ask Balthazar about the visit he recently paid to their parents, and much to their chagrin, he describes it in vivid detail, reeling off all of the comments they made about how they wish they could have had children who _did something_ with their lives.

                “And Cassie, they simply couldn’t stop talking about you,” Balthazar says suddenly, pointing at Castiel with his fork.

                Castiel looks up from his own food, alarmed. “Me? What about me?”

                “Oh, let me guess,” Anna interjects, putting both hands up in the air. “The spotlight argument again. Was it the spotlight argument? I bet it was the spotlight argument.”

                “’And how could you let your baby brother take the spotlight like that?’” Balthazar says by way of response. “’You’re the oldest, and you know we always expected better things out of you,’ they said. ‘How could you allow Castiel to upstage you?’”

                “Literally,” Gabriel adds helpfully.

                Balthazar glowers at him. “Ah yes, would you like to hear what they had to say about you?”

                He blanches and shakes his head. “Not really.”

                “’Though at least the four of you have had some success. What about Gabriel? He decided to be a _chef_. Chefs don’t go anywhere in life.’ Oh! And that wasn’t even my favorite—“

                Raphael slams his silverware down onto the table. “For Christ’s sake, stop.” Balthazar and Gabriel pause to look at him, and see that he’s scowling. “As much as I love these family love fests, we’re not here to bicker. We’ve got some serious stuff to talk about.”

                Balthazar nods. “That’s right. We need to discuss the mess that Cassie’s put us in.”

                “It’s not Cas’ fault, Balthazar,” Anna insists. “Just because he was the one who finally chose to tell Crowley ‘no’ when he asked for another raise.”

                Castiel directs an appreciative smile toward Anna. “Regardless of blame, there’s no point in talking about it now. The damage is done; now we need to come up with solutions.”

                “Well, we need a replacement ASAP,” Raphael says.

                Anna nods. “I agree. Crowley was halfway through booking venues for our next tour. And because we’re starting studio recording soon, I don’t think any of us really have the time to be worrying about tour details too.”

                “I would be totally willing—“ Cas begins.

                “No! I’ve already told Castiel that he should not, under any circumstances, make this his responsibility,” Gabriel informs them.

                The rest of the siblings all nod their assent.

                “Right then,” Balthazar says slowly. “How should we go about this? Crowley picked us up when we were just starting out, before I for one even knew what the purpose of a manager _is_. I’ll be damned if I know how to find a new one.”

                “We need someone who’s not as entitled as Crowley.”

                “That shouldn’t be hard,” Gabriel muses. “No one’s as entitled as Crowley.”

                “Valid point,” Balthazar says, the beginnings of a smile playing on his face. “We might as well go out onto the street and ask the first person we see.”

                Raphael frowns. “Balthazar, are you still keeping in touch with anyone from Berklee who you think would do a good job?”

                “Ah yes, from the semester that I spent at Berklee before I dropped out of school.” Balthazar rolls his eyes.

                “Anna? You actually finished.”

                She looks between her brothers for a few moments. “Y’know… There is one guy I still kinda keep in touch with. And I think he’s looking for a job.”

                “Would it be worth looking into?” Raphael asks.

                “Y’know? I think you all would love him.” Anna pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through her contacts. “I can call him right now if you want, see if he’ll meet with me and Castiel.”

                Balthazar begins eating again. “Go for it. Talk through specifics, make sure his ‘vision of the band closely matches that which we have for ourselves.’”

                Raphael scowls. “You’re the one who wrote that script.”

                Anna shushes them, and the room falls silent. After a moment, she says, “Hey, Dean, it’s Anna. Anna Milton? … Yeah, it has been a little while, hasn’t it?”


	2. Chapter 2

                The following Friday, Anna and Castiel are sitting in Gabriel’s restaurant at 12:30 in the afternoon, waiting for Dean Winchester. The previous evening, the band got together and they discussed their priorities. Now, Cas is tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. “He’s late, Anna.”

                She glances at her phone. “It’s 12:31. Give him a few minutes, at least.”

                “Alright. You can tell me about how you know him.”

                “Or not,” Anna says, flushing.

                Castiel chuckles and leans back, crossing his arms. “I was kidding… But now you definitely need to explain.”

                “He was in a class with me. I was interested. He wasn’t. I got over it. No big deal.”

                “No big deal? Well, we certainly can’t hire him if he was stupid enough to reject you.”

                Anna looks like she’s about to say something else, but then she jumps slightly in her seat. “Oh, here he comes. Hi Dean!”

                While she jumps up to give a hug to Dean, Castiel turns to examine the newcomer. He knows that Gabriel is watching from afar, and he’s determined to look as indifferent as possible for as long as possible. If he’s not careful, there will be a press release about their new band manager—or their failed search for a new band manager—before their food even comes.

                Dean Winchester looks to be in his late 20’s, and if Castiel had known any better he wouldn’t have thought that this guy would have gone to any university, let alone some place like Berklee. It’s not that he seems at all unintelligent; on the contrary, Castiel can tell immediately that Dean is smart. It just looks like he’s spent more of his time working than studying.

                After Dean and Anna share a hug, Cas stands up and shakes his hand, smiling genially. “Mr. Winchester, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

                “Same. But please call me Dean—‘Mr. Winchester’ makes me think of pissed off teachers.”

                Cas laughs and they sit down. Immediately Gabriel is at their table, handing all of them menus. “Hello everybody,” he says with a grin. “My name is Gabriel, and I’ll be your server this afternoon. Can I get you started with anything?”

                “Gabe, why aren’t you in the kitchen where you belong?” Anna asks seriously. She looks at Dean and adds, “This is Gabriel, our brother. And you’re currently sitting in his restaurant. He’s too nosy for his own good.”

                “Too apt to gossiping for his own good,” Castiel adds, winking at Dean. “Gabe, what can I order that will keep you as far away from us for as long as possible?”

                “Ask for something complicated and I’ll be coming back every two minutes to double-check your order. Don’t test me, little bro.” Gabe turns to Dean. “How about you, sunshine?”

                Dean examines the menu, picking it apart with a fine-tooth comb and making what appears to be one of the most difficult decisions of his life. At last he says, “I’d like a bacon cheeseburger, please. And I might as well inform you now that I intend to have a piece of apple pie for dessert.”

                “I like a man with a hearty appetite.” Gabriel looks at Castiel and immediately becomes disinterested. “Cassie?”

                His brother scowls. “My usual, please.”

                “And I’ll have my usual as well,” Anna adds, handing over her menu.

                The moment Gabe is gone, Castiel loosens up slightly. He leans forward and says, “So Dean, Anna tells me you met at Berklee.”

                “Well yeah,” Dean says, frowning slightly. “I guess—“

                Anna clears her throat. “Castiel, perhaps we should discuss business first? Then you guys can get to know each other.”

                Cas looks between Anna and Dean, puzzled. He wants to know why she’s trying to avoid the discussion, but he also can’t help but acknowledge that she’s right and they should talk about the business side of things before anything else. Grudgingly, he says, “Alright. Dean, by your definition, what is a band manager supposed to do?”

                “Well…” He’s fidgeting, shredding his paper napkin to shreds as a way of releasing his nervous energy. “It depends on the band.”

                “That’s not what I’m asking,” Castiel says slowly. “It depends on the band because it depends on the manager. So I’m asking: if you were a band manager, what would your responsibilities be?”

                Dean looks between Anna and Castiel. Anna is smiling reassuringly. Cas is maintaining a poker face so that Dean can’t figure out what’s going through his head as he says, “I think a manager is mostly a consultant. If a band is making a big decision about a record company, or publicity, or whatever, they should be able to go to the manager to ask for their opinion. The band isn’t obligated to listen, of course, but I think a manager provides another perspective—and in the music business, that’s crucial.”

                “I agree; different perspectives can be beneficial,” Castiel muses. “Anything else?”

                Before Dean can continue, Gabriel appears at their table again. “Sorry to interrupt...” he murmurs, placing three glasses of soda in front of them. “I’ve just got some complimentary soda here for the three of you.”

                “Hey Gabe?” Anna looks up at him with a grin. “If you come back again without our food, I will punch you in the throat.”

                Gabriel cringes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

                This time, Castiel waits until Gabe has returned to the kitchen before gesturing to Dean to continue.

                “Well, beyond that it mostly depends on how much power the band is willing to give them, and how much the band does through other agents. If it were me, I’d secure the details of events. I’d also take care of marketing. I’d like to play a big role in planning of photoshoots and interviews and such—I care about my image just as much as you care about yours. I don’t want to work for a band that looks bad in public ‘cause that’d be bad for _my_ image, y’know?”

                Anna and Castiel glance at each other. She raises her eyebrows, and he shrugs. Next thing Dean knows, Anna is saying, “Dean, how is your brother doing?”

                “Uh, he’s fine?”

                “Is he still dating that girl? What was her name…”

                “Jess,” Dean supplies. “Yeah, he is. They’re engaged now, actually. Getting married in a few months.”

                “Oh, that’s lovely! She was a really sweet girl, if I remember correctly.”

                “Yeah, I like her a lot.” Dean smiles uncertainly. He looks between the two siblings. “Is that—“

                Gabriel reappears—this time bearing food—before Dean can finish his thought.

                For the rest of the meal, Castiel and Anna persistently ask questions, keeping Dean’s mind bouncing in so many directions—his brother at Stanford, how his parents met, where he went to high school—that he nearly forgets what this lunch was initially supposed to be about. _Nearly_. As it is, he wonders if his answer to a single question was enough to write him off entirely. And looking at Anna and Castiel, looking at their brother Gabriel, he finds that he feels seriously disappointed.

                Eventually, Anna rises and says, “I’m going to pay a quick visit to the ladies’ room.”

                Almost as soon as she’s gone, Dean turns to Castiel. “Look, if you don’t mind my asking, how did Anna tell you she knows me?”

                “She says you were in a class with her at Berklee.”

                “Really.”

                Cas raises an eyebrow. “Is that… not the case?”

                “I’m afraid not. Mr. Milton—“

                “Castiel.”

                Dean appears to be a bit puzzled by the concept of calling Castiel Milton “Castiel” to his face. “Castiel, I met Anna at Berklee, but I was there doing janitorial work at the time. I like Boston, so I was hanging around in the hopes of finding work as a bartender, or a mechanic, or… anything, really.”

                “But you have experience in the music business?”

                He nods. “I do. Not as grand-scale as The Seraphim, by any means, but yes.”

                “You look worried,” Castiel remarks.

                “Why shouldn’t I?” Dean chuckles darkly. “As far as you can tell, I’m deeply unqualified for this position, to the point that I don’t even know why Anna asked me here. I didn’t even go to college, for Christ’s sake.”

                For the first time during their meeting, Castiel smiles at Dean. “In no respect do I think you sound unqualified. I simply think you’ve been unable, up until now, to prove that you’re qualified. You sound like a prudent businessman, and you’ll be able to break up arguments between the four of us… and that’s a crucial part of the job, believe me. Of course we need to go over specifics—payment and such—and we need to see how well you get along with Balthazar and Raphael. But if I had my way, I’d hire you this second.”

                “Are you fucking with me?” Dean asks, staring hard at Castiel.

                “Not presently, no.” He glances in the direction of the restrooms. “But hey. When Anna comes back, act like I still think you went to Berklee, alright? I want to see how long she tries to keep up this charade.”

                “Hey, I always take the opportunity to help someone get back at a sibling.” After sharing a smile, Dean says carefully, “When did you decide that Anna was lying about me?”

                Castiel smirks. “Y’know, I sort of wondered as soon as you walked up, actually. No offense, of course. It’s just clear that you’re more of a working-class type of guy. Not necessarily by choice…”

                “I started to help Sammy get through school. If this works out… Well, grad school’ll be a piece of cake comparatively.”

                Out of the corner of his eye, Cas sees Anna nearing their table, and he lowers his voice as he says, “None of my siblings would have done that for me.” Sitting back and raising his voice back to a normal decibel, he adds, “Hey Anna! I was just telling Dean that we’d love for him to come by the studio on Monday to meet Balthazar and Raphael.”

                Anna grins as she sits back down. “Sounds fantastic to me. And what did Dean say?”

                Both of them look at Dean expectantly. He turns his gaze first on Anna—who is still giving him that courteous, appreciative smile—and then on Castiel. It’s when Castiel gives him a slight nod that he finally smiles and says, “I said yes. I look forward to it.”


	3. Chapter 3

_It was only a week ago that Castiel Milton of_ The Seraphim _got into a spat that put band manager Mr. Crowley out of the job. It appears, however, that the Miltons are in no way sentimental about their split with Crowley; an inside source assure us that the siblings have already begun the process of finding a new manager, stating, “They’ve met with someone, and while nothing’s official yet, he’s as good as hired.”_

\--

                Five minutes after he arrives at the studio, Dean feels certain that _someone_ has made an enormous mistake. It’s possible that he made the mistake in deciding to work with four siblings, and it’s possible that Castiel and Anna made the mistake in thinking that he could handle this. In any case, he knows that someone made some very poor choices.

                The trouble actually starts before the recording session does, because Balthazar is late. Dean had decided to come a little bit late so that the session would already be in progress and perhaps he wouldn’t have to go through boring introductions, but when he arrives, only three of the Miltons are there.

                Apparently, this is a fairly regular occurrence. Raphael is pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. Dean can only catch snatches of what he’s saying, but he distinctly hears the phrases “shove it where the sun don’t shine” and “drag the body from here to New York”. Hesitantly, Dean crosses the room to sit beside Castiel, who’s in the process of tuning his guitar.

                “Your brother is… intense,” he says quietly.

                Cas looks up at Raphael with a slight frown, then directs his gaze at Dean. “My whole family is intense. That’s just Raphael’s brand of intensity.” He then returns all his focus to his instrument, leaving Dean to ponder that statement.

                “We should just start telling him to get here an hour before we plan to come.” Anna is using this time to buff and paint her nails, and as she speaks she dips the brush into the bottle once more. “Maybe then he’ll be on time.”

                “Why is it that when I suggested that last year, you looked at me like I was a moron?”

                Anna chuckles. “Castiel, I always look at you like you’re a moron. But I’m allowed to decide later on that an idea of yours is not half-bad.”

                Before he can respond, the door flies open and Balthazar comes waltzing in. “I’d apologize for being late, but I really don’t actually give a damn.” His eyes land on Dean and he frowns. “Anna, there’s no fucking way you met this clown at Berklee. Castiel, why the fuck did you agree to hire some high school drop-out?”

                “Hey!” Dean jumps up and makes his way toward Balthazar; he’d been planning on remaining open-minded about this gig, but Balthazar isn't exactly making a good first impression. “I’m not some loser high school drop-out.”

                Castiel doesn’t even look up from his guitar as he responds, “Balthazar, how dare you doubt Anna. She told us Dean went to school with her, so of course he went to school with her. Why would she ever lie to us about something this important? And don’t call Dean a clown; he’s clearly wearing no make-up.”

                “Thanks, Cas,” Dean says absent-mindedly. “Balthazar, I’d be willing to try this introduction thing again if you would be.”

                Balthazar grimaces and holds out a hand. “Balthazar Milton. Bass player extraordinaire. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

                “Dean Winchester. No title. And believe me, the pleasure’s all mine. Why do you have an English accent when your siblings, uh, don’t?”

                “You’re cheeky,” Balthazar says with a smirk. “Anna, Cassie, I’ve changed my mind, we can keep him.” Looking back at Dean, he adds, “It’s a French accent, by the way, not English.” With that, Balthazar turns in the direction of the studio and strolls in. “Am I recording this album by myself, then, or are you coming to join me?”

                “Can I kill him?” Raphael asks Anna under his breath.

                As Cas is following behind his siblings, he directs his attention to Dean and gestures toward another door. “Why don’t you go into the control room and watch us from there? Chuck can answer any questions you might have.”

                “Sounds good to me.”

                Dean goes through the door and nods to the guy sitting in front of the large assortment of sound equipment. “Hey. I’m guessing you’re Chuck.”

                “Yep, Chuck Shurley. Very nice to meet you.” He looks Dean up and down. “And you’re the new Crowley.”

                “Well, nothing’s official yet…” Dean rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

                Chuck chuckles.  “I already like you better than I liked him.”

                Dean doesn’t try to contradict him, but he certainly doesn’t feel inclined to agree. So instead of saying anything, he just sits down beside Chuck and leans back, setting his feet on the edge of the table.

                “You know I really should kick you out just for putting your feet that close to the equipment, right?”

                “Sorry,” he says hurriedly, sitting up straight and setting his feet on the ground. “So what are they recording today?”

                “Vocals, keyboard and bass. I was also hoping to get Anna and Castiel into the isolation room to get the drums and guitar, but Balthazar was later than normal so that’s just not going to happen.”

                After handing Dean a set of headphones so that he can listen in, Chuck seems to completely forget that there’s anyone else in the room with him.

                Dean can hardly remember the last time he was in a recording studio, and he spends a great deal of time watching the entire process. On their albums, the Miltons’ voices blend perfectly together, but sitting in the studio Dean suddenly catches all of the inconsistencies in their volume, in their tone and inflection. Chuck cuts them off again and again, making comments and giving them directions on everything they need to fix.

                Meanwhile, what seems to be the normal Milton family dynamic is nonexistent; the four of them are all business, entirely focused on the music. Raphael is not glaring at Balthazar as though he is contemplating the methods he could use for his murder. Balthazar makes no snarky comments when Chuck tells him to change something.

                When he glances at Castiel, though, Dean pauses. The rest of the Miltons… this is the first time, to Dean, that they’ve seemed completely grounded. Based on the look of delight on Cas’ face, Dean finds himself vaguely concerned that the guy might lift off the ground and float away. And it’s fascinating. It’s fascinating that Castiel is the only one in The Seraphim who lets loose, who loses himself in the music. And that thought puts a grin on Dean’s face.

                As if he can sense Dean’s gaze, Castiel’s eyes land on Dean for just an instant, and Dean feels certain that in that instant, Cas’ smile is even wider.

                Just as Chuck suspected, they don’t have time to record the guitar or the drums. They finish a take—Dean is slightly bewildered by the miniscule number of takes that they actually finished when compared to the enormous amount that they started—and Chuck glances down at his watch. “You guys, it’s quittin’ time. We’ve already gone fifteen minutes over, and I want to close up shop and go home.” He removes his headset then adds to Dean, “I always book them in the later slot of the day because they _always_ go over. Once they had me here until 10 at night. And let me tell you, Anna gets scary when she’s working for that long.”

                Dean laughs and looks through the glass at Anna, who’s helping Raphael with the keyboard. “I used to help her study for her midterms, so I know what you mean.”

                “Oh, how could I forget; you already knew Anna.” Chuck lowers his voice slightly. “Look, if you don’t mind my asking, did you and Anna ever… have a thing? Because no offense, but it’s kind of shocking that a band like The Seraphim would hire somebody as entirely unknown as you are.”

                “Me and Anna?” Dean gestures out toward the lobby, looking flustered. “You think… no, no. I mean, I… I think she was interested for a little while—at least, her friends kept telling me to make a move. But… no. She’s not really my… I… no. No.”

                Chuck doesn’t pry any further, and he watches as Dean leaves the control room.

                As soon as he’s in the lobby, the Miltons turn to look at him and Castiel says, “Dean! We’re all going to get dinner at Gabriel’s restaurant. You should come.”

                “Didn’t you say Gabe was the one who told the press about me?” He furrows his brow as they all nod. “So why do you still go there?”

                “Because if we started going to a different restaurant, he would cry,” Anna says with a shrug.

                When Dean laughs, Raphael looks at him seriously. “You think we’re kidding, but we speak from experience; we tried one night after our first chart-topper and Gabriel hid in his room and wouldn’t speak to us for weeks.”

                After a moment’s pause, Dean shrugs. “Alright, I’ll come. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

                “Spectacular!” Balthazar strolls over to Dean and puts an arm over his shoulders, steering him toward the door. “I can explain the origin of my Scottish accent.”

                “You said it was French.”

                He waves this off. “It’s a little bit of several things; stop questioning me. Come on.”

                Anna, Castiel and Raphael follow in their wake, and Anna chuckles. “Balthazar is going to explain our entire lineage to Dean, and I think he’s going to regret it.”

                “Yeah.” Cas looks at Dean ahead of them, and then at his sister, and says slowly, “Hey Anna? You said that Dean was in one of your classes?”

                Her eyes grow wide and she says hurriedly, “Yeah, what about it?”

                “And you said that you were interested in him, but that he felt no such feelings for you.”

                “Oh.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, turns out I’m not really his type. So if you’re worried about us doing something unprofessional, or if you think that—“

                Castiel smiles slightly. “Stop, Anna. I’m not worried. I trust you.” It seems almost as if he’s going to say something else, but instead he hurries to catch up with Balthazar and Dean.


	4. Chapter 4

                They arrive at Gabriel’s restaurant after closing, which means that he comes out to join them once their food is all prepared. He pulls a seat up between Dean and Balthazar, sitting on it the wrong way so that he can lean on the back of the chair. “So Dean, tell me, have you signed the contract yet? Inquiring minds want to know.”

                “Oh, as a matter a fact I have,” Dean says seriously. “Also I’m screwing your brother and I got him pregnant.”

                Anna, who’s in the middle of taking a drink of water, starts choking as Gabriel laughs and says, “Which brother?”

                Dean shrugs. “Who cares what I tell you? You’ll just make something up.”

                Raphael laughs heartily. “You tell him, Dean.”

                It seems as though Gabriel is gearing up to send a clever retort Dean’s way, but Castiel gets to him first. “Y’know, here you are watching our family in action, but we don’t know much of anything about yours—even Anna’s fairly clueless. Care to share? Nothing that you’re uncomfortable with,” he quickly adds. “And I know you gave me and Anna a brief background at lunch a few days ago, but I think everybody would love to get to know a little more about you.”

                “Well, what do you want to know?” Dean leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and trying very hard to mask the discomfort he feels with all of the Miltons directing their attention completely toward him.

                “What’s your background in music?” Balthazar asks.

                Anna frowns. “Balthazar, he went—“

                “No no, I want his actual background in music. Cassie told me he said that he never even went to college, so…”

                While Anna looks affronted, Castiel just frowns slightly. “You’ve ruined it; I was hoping to see how long it would take her to break down and tell the truth.”

                “When did he _tell_ you?”

                “I told him while you were in the restroom at lunch,” Dean says. “Because I think employers should know if a potential employee didn’t bother with college.”

                “And we’re making him our manager?” Raphael suddenly looks irritated. “Castiel, why the hell didn’t you turn him away as soon as he told you?”

                Everyone at the table turns to look at Castiel, including Dean—who feels relieved to be out of the limelight for the time-being. Meanwhile, Cas looks about ten times more comfortable and sure of himself than he feels as he says, “When we talked it over the night before, you said yourselves that while experience would be nice, there’s something to be said for the perspective that comes from less experience, and more instinct. I thought it was clear that Dean has good instincts about business. He’s clever, but not the manipulative kind of clever that made us kick Crowley to the curb.”

                “Which is exactly why I thought he would be perfect,” Anna declares with a small smile. “Besides, you’re not clueless, are you Dean?”

                “Am I the only one who feels like we’re missing something?” Gabriel asks. He’s sitting with a notepad under the table, casually scribbling down everything he can from the conversation.

                Dean notices this and hits the notepad out of Gabe’s hands before speaking. “My parents were musicians too. After…” He hesitates. “After my mom died…” There is a hum of sympathy that passes through the siblings; while they share a mutual dislike for their own parents, Dean’s tone indicates that the loss was devastating. “Well, my dad kind of crashed and burned. Alcohol, arrests… you know the type. Sammy and I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

                Balthazar rolls his eyes. “Great, so you could write a book on how _not_ to remain a successful musician. How does that help us?”

                “It helps us plenty!” Anna glares at Balthazar. “Don’t you think that means he’ll be able to make good decisions too?”

                “For your sake, I hope so. If he screws us over…”

                Gabriel clears his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but… Mind if I ask who your parents were?”

                “John and Mary Winchester. Although they went by my mom’s maiden name on stage.”

                “Your parents were John and Mary Campbell,” Castiel says slowly. When Dean nods, Cas’ somber expression becomes a smile. “They were my main inspiration in becoming a musician.”

                Dean looks at Cas, clearly startled. “Wow. That’s… I’m sure they would have loved to know that they had such an effect on somebody. Thank you.”

                “Anyway…” Anna takes the opportunity to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Are we all sufficiently satisfied with his competency?” The brothers all shrug, Balthazar more begrudgingly, and she smiles. “Alright then. Dean, tell us all a little bit about what you’ve been doing since I left Berklee.”

\--

The Seraphim _has found their manager. Earlier this morning, front man Castiel Milton signed a contract turning all managerial duties over to Dean Winchester. While Winchester is an unknown in the music world, some musical connoisseurs might know of his parents: John and Mary Winchester, who were a two-person stage act better known as John and Mary Campbell. They were fairly successful up until fifteen years ago, at which point Mary Winchester fell ill, and eventually passed away. Mr. Winchester quickly faded into obscurity, though he reportedly also passed away seven years ago._

\--

                To celebrate, Dean declares that he’s treating Castiel and Anna to dinner—at a non-Gabriel-owned restaurant. “Let Gabe feel bad about himself; don’t you ever want to expand your horizons?”

                “Expand our horizons?” Anna repeats with a smirk.

                Dean sighs, exasperated. “I know it’s a little cheesy but you know what I mean! Do something different. Forget about Gabriel for one evening.” He looks at Cas. “Name a type of food that you haven’t eaten since Gabe opened his restaurant.”

                Cas pauses, pensive, and then a smile lights up his face. “Mexican. I miss Mexican food.”

                “What a coincidence!” Dean puts an arm around each of their shoulders, guiding them out of Castiel’s door and toward his car. “I know a great Mexican restaurant.”

                Anna squirms away and steps out of Dean’s hold on her. “I really think I’ll pass, I’m sorry. I don’t want to incur Gabe’s wrath.”

                Dean’s arms drop to his sides and he looks at Castiel tragically. “Are you going to wuss out on me too?”

                “Well…” Cas looks between Dean and his sister, thoughts racing as he contemplates the pros and cons. “No, I’m not going to wuss out. I’ll come with you, Dean.”

                He grins and claps Castiel on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about. Anna, want a ride back to your apartment? Or to Gabe’s restaurant? Or something?”

                She accepts the offer, and after bringing her home, Dean and Castiel continue on to a Mexican, non-Gabriel-owned restaurant.

                Almost as soon as they sit down, Dean notices how uncomfortable Cas appears to be, and he kicks him gently under the table. “Don’t look so freaked out. It’s like you think your brother’s going to pop up and begin yelling at you any second.”

                “He might.” Dean laughs, but Castiel doesn’t.

                “C’mon Cas. Just calm down and order some food.”

                “You did it again,” Castiel says.

                Dean is about to chastise him for changing the subject, but then the statement registers and he frowns. “Did what?”

                “You called me Cas. No one else calls me Cas.”

                “Oh.” Dean hasn’t even noticed that he’s ever referred to Castiel as “Cas”, although he’s called him that in his head essentially since their first meeting. “I’m sorry. Would you like me to stop?”

                Castiel shakes his head. “No. I like it. It’s better than ‘Cassie’. I really don’t like it when Gabe and Balthazar call me ‘Cassie’. Even my parents, Anna, and Raphael do it sometimes.”

                Dean thinks of all of the childish names he and Sam have ever called one another, but every time they stumble upon a name that truly irritates, they put it to bed. “Why don’t you just ask them to stop?”

                “For the same reason I always keep quiet—to keep the peace.”

                Once again, Dean wonders if he should have perhaps thought this through more. Before he can say anything, however, a waitress appears, asking if Dean and Castiel have made their choices yet. They order their food, and Dean flashes the waitress a halfhearted smile before she walks away.

                Immediately, his full attention returns to Cas. “Why do you feel the need to ‘keep the peace’?”

                “You know how every family has that turning point, something that would push them over the edge?” Dean nods, thinking immediately of the six months after his father died when he and Sam had absolutely no contact. “If I make a wrong move, it will be the turning point. I know I sound enormously self-important, but—“

                “It’s true. I agree with you.”

                Castiel grimaces. “Yes. So instead of making a wrong move—“

                “You don’t make any moves.”

                “Correct.” For the first time during the conversation, Castiel looks directly at Dean, who holds his gaze as he says, “Unless you endorse them, I suppose.”

                “No pressure or anything,” Dean says with a chuckle, although he doesn’t really feel like he should be laughing.

                Silence falls at the table, after which they make small talk until their food comes. With his first bite, Castiel lets out a little groan. “I’m never eating a meal that Gabriel cooks ever again.”

                Dean laughs. “I doubt you’ll keep to that. Your brother makes awesome food.”

                “Okay. But I’m eating elsewhere a few times a week,” he amends. “Thank you, Dean.”

                “You’re welcome, Cas.”


	5. Chapter 5

                For about a month, Dean spends almost every waking moment with the Miltons—in their apartments, at the recording studio, at Gabriel’s restaurant. The more time he spends with them, the more he wonders why on earth they thought it would be a good idea to start a band together. It’s astonishing when the five siblings go ten minutes without bickering, and he can’t imagine what that would be like on tour together. Which also makes him question why he’s so diligently _planning_ their next tour, but that’s something else entirely.

                At the same time, however, he finds it rather astonishing how well they push aside their differences and get down to business when the time comes. Balthazar and Raphael, on more than one occasion, cut off an argument mid-sentence as soon as they walk into the studio, only to continue when they step outside.

                While Dean passes the time with all of the Miltons in varying combinations, Cas is the only one with whom he spends any real time alone. He doesn’t mind; in fact, he rather appreciates it, the way they’re getting to know each other so well.  However, he’s rather at a loss for how to interpret their friendship—which means that he pushes the idea to the back of his mind and tries very hard (fails very abysmally) to not think about it.

                The Seraphim absorbs such a great deal of his time that one Saturday afternoon, when he and Cas are lounging about his apartment together, the doorbell rings and he has no idea who it could be. They’re sprawled out—Dean on his couch, and Cas in a chair—just watching television, but they  both jolt up at the sound.

                “I thought your siblings were going to some wine tasting today,” Dean says, giving Castiel a bemused look.

                Cas glances down at his watch. “They are at a wine tasting. They shouldn’t be back for a few hours.” He watches as Dean rises from his seat and meanders toward the door. “Could it be one of your other friends?”

                Dean snorts. “Cas, I’ve been so busy playing babysitter with you all that I’ve had no time to make any friends in LA.” He reaches the door and glances through the peep hole before letting out a shout and rushing to twist the doorknob. “Sammy!” As soon as the door is open, the two Winchester brothers embrace, Dean clapping Sam on the back. “I completely forgot!”

                “Forgot that I promised to pay you a visit as soon as you’d gotten settled? Wow, what on earth could you be keeping you so busy?” His eyes scan the apartment before landing on Castiel—rather, the top of Castiel’s head, because he’s just peering at Sam from behind the chair. “Oh, am I—“

                “You aren’t interrupting anything. Cas and I were just hanging out. Go on, hang up your coat and I’ll introduce you.”

                Sam raises his eyebrows at Dean, who is gesturing to a closet near the door. “My big brother has a closet where he actually hangs up his coat,” he murmurs. “Isn’t that something.” Castiel gets up and comes closer while Sam puts his jacket away. “Y’know Dean, you never did bother to give me much of an explanation for why you were even moving to LA. Like, I know you said something about a job, but—“ At that precise moment, Sam turns to face Dean and Castiel, and his jaw drops slightly. He grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him a few feet away before hissing, “Dean, Castiel Milton is in your living room.”

                “Really?” Both of the brothers look over at Cas, who waves at them with a smile. “I hadn’t even noticed, thanks Sam.”

                “It’s very nice to meet you, Sam,” Castiel says loudly. “Dean has told me so much about you.”

                “Really?” Sam scrutinizes Cas, as though he expects the man to disappear at any moment. “He’s… he’s told me nothing about you. Although I’m starting to wonder if this has something to do with why he’s kept up such poor contact with me since moving here,” he adds.

                “Actually, yes it does. My siblings and I have employed him.”

                Sam stares between Dean and Cas, entirely flummoxed. “Y—your siblings? As in, like…” He seems almost afraid to say it.

                “C’mon Sammy,” Dean says, chuckling. “Let’s sit down, have a bite to eat, and Cas and I can explain.”

                Instead of responding, Sam nods dumbly, but as Dean is pulling him toward the kitchen, he regains his composure enough to whisper, “Dean, you know Castiel Milton well enough to call him ‘Cas’.”

                Both Dean and Castiel smile.

                The three of them sit at Dean’s kitchen table and partake in some leftover Thai food that Dean has in his fridge, and while they eat Castiel explains the whole mess with Crowley, and describes how Anna brought Dean onto the scene. Dean, who has never heard this story from the Miltons’ point of view, is both fascinated, and a little flattered to know that they put so much faith in him that he was the sole contender for the job.

                For the duration of the explanation, Sam continues to stare at Dean and Castiel, completely dumbstruck. When they’re finished, he remains silent for quite some time.

                “Sammy?” Dean peers at his brother. “You’re making me feel like I broke you.”

                At last, Sam points at Dean. “You’re an ass for not telling me about this earlier.”

                “Hey! I meant to, Sammy. Really. Time just got away from me. This is kind of a 24/7 sort of job. I can’t remember the last time I talked to Bobby, either.”

                “Oh! Speaking of, I promised him I’d make you call when I got here. So go call Bobby.”

                Dean frowns. “What, now?”

                “Yes, now! Go on.”

                Cas and Sam are left alone in the kitchen, and the atmosphere immediately gains a tangible sense of discomfort. Sam is the first to try to break the silence. “So, Castiel…”

                “Yes?”

                “I… I really like your music. I’ve been listening to you guys since high school. It’s… it’s gotten me through some hard times.”

                Castiel nods. “Yes. Dean’s told me.”

                “He has?”

                Immediately, Cas gets the impression that that wasn’t quite what Sam expected, or wanted, to hear, and he quickly adds, “Not much. But enough. So… thank you.”

                “Oh. Okay. Well, thank you.”

                “I hear you’re studying to be a lawyer,” Cas says, in an attempt to steer the conversation toward something relatively normal.

                Sam clearly appreciates the gesture, and he nods, promptly beginning to rave about Stanford, and his classes, and how much he’s looking forward to getting out there and helping to right some wrongs. When Dean returns, they are still on the subject of law, and Sam and Castiel are having a discussion about copyright law—a (successful) attempt on Sam’s part to turn a potentially mind-numbing conversation into something that Cas cares about and is interested in.

                “I’m glad to see you two are getting along,” Dean says with a smile, leaning on a chair and looking between them fondly. “Sammy, are you planning on spending the night here or did you book a hotel room?”

                “Well, I was hoping…”

                Dean grins. “Great, I’ve got a guest bedroom that you can use.”

                “You mean I won’t have to sleep on the couch? That’s new.” They laugh.

                Castiel pushes his chair back and stands. “I think maybe I should be going… Don’t want to invade on your time together.”

                “Hey!” Dean stops Cas as he’s about to pass him. “I won’t stand for it. Your siblings ditched you for wine, so you’re staying here and hanging out with us. That is, if Sammy doesn’t mind,” he says, with a quick glance at Sam.

                Sam just shrugs. “I think that sounds great.”

                So Castiel agrees to stay, albeit reluctantly. They return to Dean’s living room and sit around for a while, chatting. Dean inquires after Jess, which leads to a far too extensive and far too in-depth description of wedding plans, followed by a, “And Dean, if you don’t find time in your oh-so-busy schedule to plan an awesome bachelor party, I’m going to be seriously upset.”

                Eventually, Cas gets up and says, “Well, now I’ve far beyond overstayed my welcome. I think it’s time that I go.”

                “I’ll walk you to the door,” Dean says quickly, following Castiel. “Thanks for staying, and hanging out. I’m glad you had a chance to get to know Sam.”

                “I like him a lot,” Castiel says. He glances beyond Dean into the apartment, to Sam, who is pointedly looking away in an attempt to pretend that he is not listening very closely to every word of the conversation. “It was interesting to see you with him. You were… different. Is that what functional family interactions are like?”

                Dean laughs uncomfortably. “Cas, our family is far from functional. We may not be your level of weird, but…” It’s clear from Castiel’s expression that he’s not going to buy it, so Dean doesn’t bother to finish his sentence. Instead, he says, “Could you tell the rest of the Milton clan that I’d like to take the day off from band managing tomorrow? As in, emergency phone calls only? Meaning no whiny calls from Gabe about how he’s out of oregano and needs me to get more. He’s not even in the band, I’ve got no idea why he expects me to fetch him anything. But you get what I mean.”

                “Yes, of course.” Cas gives Dean a slight nod. “Have some fun with Sam.”

                As soon as Dean sits back down beside his brother, Sam turns toward him. “So you’re working for my favorite band in the world and you didn’t bother to tell me.”

                “Are you still going to rag on me about that? I’ve apologized, Jesus.”

                “ _Cas_ was pretty cool, though…” Sam adds, stressing his use of Dean’s nickname.

                Dean scowls and throws a throw pillow Sam’s way. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

                “What? I just wish my own brother would tell me when he’s dating a famous musician.”

                “Cas and I aren’t dating!” Dean begins to grow red.

                “Could’ve fooled me. I just figured you didn’t kiss him goodbye because you weren’t sure how I would react.”

                “Well, you figured wrong.”

                Sam doesn’t persist, but Dean feels as though he’s being scrutinized for the rest of Sam’s visit.


	6. Chapter 6

                “How far behind are we now?”

                Chuck looks down at their calendar. “About a week. You should count your blessings; Crowley used to let them get nearly a month behind before he started reining them in.”

                Dean groans and begins to pace back and forth across the few square feet of ground in the control room. “We can do better than this, I know it.”

                “Hang on.” Chuck flicks through the calendar some more. “I have a cancelation… two days from now, in the morning. You guys are going to have to pay extra for it, though, so maybe you should talk it through with them.”

                “Alright.”

                When Dean enters the studio, they all look up from their instruments. Balthazar is the first to speak. “Dean’s got his serious face on.”

                “I have reason to be serious,” Dean says. “We’re a week behind schedule in recording.”

                “Only a week? That’s great!” Balthazar holds his hand up to Raphael for a high five, but Raphael just raises an eyebrow and looks away.

                Dean sighs, exasperated. “We’re mostly so behind because you come in an hour late to every session.” This is enough to make Balthazar’s face fall, and Dean is smirking as he continues. “Chuck has agreed to fit in some extra sessions for us here and there. He has room for us in two days, but we’d have to pay extra because it’s so last-minute. I think it would be pretty beneficial, but I only have a fifth of the say here, so—“

                “No way. I have plans.”

                “At eight in the morning?”

                “Sure. I have plans to be in my bed, asleep.”

                Anna groans and throws her empty water bottle at Balthazar; it hits him squarely in the chest. “Don’t be such an ass. Isn’t this just what we hired Dean for, to give us advice? We always end up having to schedule extra sessions anyway, so why don’t we just throw them in between the ones we’ve already got instead of tacking them onto the end and making the whole process feel long and arduous?”

                “I like the long and arduous recording sessions. It’s when I feel closest to you all.” Balthazar beams at them.

                Castiel clears his throat. “Balthazar, you’re not the one working the longest. Anna and I have to spend twice the time here that you do because we have to record our instrumentals. I think we should put what Chuck’s offered to good use. At the very least, Anna and I could come in. We’re always more productive when you two aren’t here anyway.”

                The thought had not even occurred to Dean, and he looks at Cas with a grin. “That’s a great idea. Is that an acceptable solution for everybody?”

                Both Raphael and Balthazar murmur their assent. Dean returns to the control room to inform Chuck that Anna and Castiel will be coming to record, but that Balthazar and Raphael will not. Chuck looks out into the studio, pensive. “It never ceases to amaze me how much you actually care about their well-being.”

                “Unlike Crowley?”

                Chuck nods, and Dean can’t help noticing how somber he looks.

\--

                _Two months ago, the well-known band_ The Seraphim _fired their long-time manager, Mr. Crowley, only to replace him within the week. It now appears that Crowley is equally uninterested in remaining sentimental. We’ve been informed by Mr. Crowley himself that he intends to manage someone new. While he is tight-lipped on who his new employer may be, he assures us that, “They are by no means new to the music business. If I work with them, though, I intend to entirely remake their image. You won’t recognize them after I’m through.”_

\--

                When Dean arrives at the studio, Anna, Castiel and Chuck are out in the waiting room, discussing the article that was released the day before about Crowley.

                “I really think that he’s just messing with you guys, trying to get into your heads,” Chuck is saying. “He sees that you’ve replaced him easily, that you’re going along just fine, and he wants to psych you out and make you question yourselves.”

                “It’s definitely working. It’s not that I—“ Anna’s eyes land on Dean at that moment and she rushes to change the subject. “Dean, hey! We’ve been waiting for you.”

                “What were you guys talking about?”

                Chuck and Anna look slightly guilty, beginning to stammer over explanations, but Cas is direct and to the point. “We were talking about Crowley. He did a press release about a band that he may or may not be working with, and we’re speculating what his intentions are and if he’s serious. Raphael and Anna are also wondering if maybe it was a bad idea to hire you so soon, and if maybe somehow that would have prevented any future issues with him that we might have.”

                “Don’t you agree?” Anna is asking this question not of Castiel, but of Dean, which surprises them both. “I’m worried that Crowley might be seriously pissed about this, especially because you’ve got very little experience. I think that this is going to come back to bite us in the butt.”

                “I think you might be right. I don’t know Crowley at all, but based on what you’ve said about him, he’s not that great of a person and maybe it makes him angry that you hired me. Maybe he intends to do something about it. And maybe this press release has to do with that. But for now, I think it’s a bad idea to worry about it. We’ve done it, we’ve signed the contract, and if I do say so myself, I’m running a fairly tight ship here—“

                “Hey, don’t let what I said get to your head,” Chuck interjects.

                Dean chuckles. “Sorry. But in any case, don’t worry about a band he may or may not be working with. Don’t think about future consequences. Think about the album you’re in the middle of recording. When you’re done with that, then maybe we can think about Crowley and worry about what he might be doing.”

                “I don’t appreciate that as our manager, you’re doing exactly what we hired you to do.” Anna looks to Chuck. “Shall we get started? I’m tired of thinking about Crowley.”

                “Sure. Would you like to get in there first? We both know how Castiel is.”

                Anna and Chuck laugh. Dean can’t tell whether Cas remains silent because the joke is at his expense, or he doesn’t understand which of his habits is worth making fun of. While Anna makes her way to the isolation room, Chuck goes into the control room. Castiel is about to follow him, but Dean grabs a hold of his arm before he can do so. “Cas, do you… do you agree with Anna? Do you wish you hadn’t hired me?”

                “Certainly not. Crowley would have gotten angry whenever we did get around to hiring a manager anyway. Besides, I think you’re just what we needed.” Cas looks at Dean with earnest eyes, who has no idea quite how to respond to such a statement without sounding emotional; he doesn’t really do emotional. Instead of trying, he just pushes Cas into the control room and follows close behind.

                Chuck gives them a strange look when they walk into the room, but all he says is, “Anna seems a bit off today. I’m starting to wonder if it might be a good idea to give a majority of the time to you.”

                “Give her a chance.” Castiel watches as his sister pauses. She shakes her head and gets up before pacing across the room three, four, five times. When she returns to the drumset she looks determined. “She’s pulled herself together, just watch.”

                And she has. Dean smiles at Castiel, the best way he can think of to acknowledge how happy it makes him that the Miltons know each other so well, regardless of the countless arguments and differences of opinion. Cas smiles back, and Dean feels certain that they both understand the exchange perfectly.

                Anna completes several successful takes, and finally Chuck nods to Cas. “Let’s give you a shot now.” As soon as Castiel is out of the room, Chuck turns his chair to face Dean completely. “I totally get it now.”

                “Get what?”

                “I get why you and Anna never dated. You know, I didn’t really believe you at first.”

                Dean frowns. “Why didn’t you believe me?”

                “Because if Anna were interested, what kind of guy wouldn’t give it a shot? Hell, I’d date her if she wanted me.”

                “That’s very flattering, but I think I’ll pass.” Anna smirks at Chuck from the doorway, and Dean silently thanks her for interrupting the conversation. Chuck pretends to be indignant, and even though they continue to bicker, Dean tunes them out in favor of watching Cas tune his guitar and warm up.

                Cas can feel Dean’s eyes, but he puts a great deal of effort into _not_ looking up until he feels ready to start. Only then does he glance at Dean, under the guise of indicating to Chuck that he’s all set. They share another smile, and then Chuck is starting and Cas is off and running, that delighted smile still stuck on his face.

                In the control room, Chuck nudges Anna. “Y’know, I think Crowley has every reason to be pissed.”

                “Why?”

                He gestures toward Castiel. “Look at him. When’s the last time he played like that?”

                They both glance over at Dean, who is completely oblivious to their conversation as he watches Cas. “Look at all of us, Chuck. I think we’re starting to remember why we chose to create The Seraphim in the first place, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence that it’s happening now. But I have to say…” She lowers her voice. “I don’t remember Castiel ever being quite so happy. And that’s no coincidence either.”

                Dean looks over at them, and judging from the grin on his face, he’s still unaware that he’s the subject of their conversation. “This is a great cut,” he says.

                Chuck smiles and nods. “It’s definitely a keeper.”


	7. Chapter 7

                “I’m starting to forget what it was like without Dean. Which I don’t appreciate.”

                “Balthazar, you’re exaggerating.”

                He glares at Anna and looks to Raphael. “Do you think I exaggerate?”

                Raphael looks between his sister and his brother, clearly not certain which side he should take. He knows, however, that neutrality is certainly not an option. “Maybe a little bit.  But is that bad? I’m certainly not missing Crowley these days. Though I was never really all that attached to Crowley.”

                “Fair enough.” Anna frowns. “He and Castiel were close, though.”

                “Cassie isn’t missing Crowley, not with him and Dean doing… whatever it is that they’re doing.”

                Anna picks up a magazine which is sitting beside her, tossing it toward Balthazar. “He’s not missing Crowley right now. What about when he sees that?”

                Raphael leans over and reads the article over Balthazar’s shoulder while Anna waits. Their expressions become increasingly grim. Balthazar finishes reading first, and looks up. “Where is he right now?”

                “He’s at Dean’s apartment; Chuck sent over some demos that they’re going over so we know what to work on next week.”

                “Should we call Dean and let him know?”

                After a moment of consideration, Anna shakes her head. “No. Castiel will find out when he finds out.”

\--

 _Three months ago, Castiel Milton made headlines when he fired Mr. Crowley, long-time manager of his band_ The Seraphim. _The Miltons were quick to hire a new manager, but Crowley opted to keep a low profile—that is, until now._

\--

                “I don’t like the balance of the drums and the guitar right… there.”

                Castiel sits back and crosses his arms, nodding. “I completely agree. The drums are overpowering. But it’s just the bridge… it sounds fine once we get into the last chorus.”

                Dean nods. “I’ll take a note of it.”

                As the song ends, Dean gets up and strolls toward the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a beer; do you want one?”

                “I’m alright, but thank you. Do you mind if I check my email?”

                “Go ahead!”

                In the kitchen, Dean stares into his refrigerator for a few moments, contemplating a half-full container of Chinese take-out. After some consideration, he pulls it out. “Cas, want to share the rest of this take-out?” He receives no response. “Cas?”

                Wielding a beer in one hand and the take-out in the other, Dean hurries back into the living room. Castiel is staring at the screen. Dean inches closer to the desk, frowning. “Cas. What’s going on?”

                “Crowley’s become Lucifer’s manager.” He’s still staring at the screen.

                Dean reclaims his seat beside Castiel and squints at the screen. “Lucifer from The 66 Seals? Why does it matter to you if he’s become the manager for The 66 Seals? You said you were glad to be rid of him, so why do you care who decided to hire him?”

                “It’s not that he was hired, it’s by whom.”

                “Lucifer, then. What’s the big deal about Lucifer?”

                Cas looks at the screen for a few more moments before closing out of the window and turning his chair toward Dean. “Before we started The Seraphim, Lucifer and I had a band together. We had a good time. We wrote some music which I’m still very fond of… but we never could agree about copyright so I can’t use it. But we’re not exactly on good terms these days. And I think Crowley is taking advantage of that to at least try to show that he’s got some hold on us still. Which he doesn’t, but…” He frowns. “It’s a shame, really, because Lucifer and I had some really good times. I wouldn’t have expected Crowley to use him as revenge.”

                Dean holds Castiel’s gaze, attempting to figure out whether it’s safe to pursue the subject further. When Cas makes no attempts to stop him, he says slowly, “Was that, like… were you…” He begins to wave his hands around as he stammers over his words.

                “Oh. No. No no no no no.” Cas flushes and shakes his head vehemently. “He was my best friend, though. But… no. No no.”

                “Ah. Right.” Dean looks away. “Because you…” He trails off into nothing.

                Castiel raises his eyebrows. “Because I?”

                “Well, because you… I mean… you… you wouldn’t…” Dean stands up and begins pacing. He stops in the middle of the room and looks at Cas, gesturing with his hands once more. “That’s just not… well. You know.”

                “I don’t, actually.”

                Dean sighs, exasperated, and turns away again, plopping down onto his couch. “Never mind.” He rubs at his neck uncomfortably. “I think that’s all I’m up for tonight.” Without waiting for Cas to respond, he picks up the remote and turns on the television.

                Now, Castiel attempts to figure out whether it’s safe to pursue the subject. It is not necessarily safe, but he chooses to do so anyway. He sits down beside Dean on the couch, and the two of them stare at the television blankly. Neither wants to be the first one to say anything. Dean wonders why Cas doesn’t try to leave, and Cas wonders why Dean doesn’t try to make him leave.

                “You’re wrong,” Cas says after quite some time.

                Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, but he does his best to sound indifferent as he replies, “Wrong about what?”

                “I think you’ve made an incorrect assumption about me, which I feel the need to remedy. And… well, I’m concerned that it might impact your perception of me, and perhaps even your willingness to manage this band, but this is something we need to talk about.”

                “Yeah?” His voice cracks and he clears his throat before speaking again. “What is it?”

                Castiel turns the television off so that Dean has no way to block out the conversation, as Cas is worried he might try to do. “You asked me if I was in a relationship with Lucifer, and I truly wasn’t. But I don’t want you to then leap to the conclusion that I’m not interested in guys. Because I am. Or rather, one guy in particular, I suppose. But I’m fairly certain he’s straight.”

                If only Dean could feel bold enough to state that no guy could possibly remain straight when looking at Cas. Instead, he asks, “Have you told the guy how you feel?”

                “No. He’s very special to me, and I don’t want to screw up our relationship if he doesn’t feel the same way. I’d rather have him around the way he is than not have him at all.”

                “Really.”

                “I don’t know if I remember how to function without him.”

                Dean seriously envies this man, whoever he may be. “If he’s that important, wouldn’t he stick around even if he wasn’t into you like that?”

                Cas shakes his head slightly. “I’m not so sure.”

                “You won’t know until you try.” He has no idea why he’s encouraging him. He kind of wants to find out who this guy is so that he can go out and punch him in the face.

                “Dean.”

                “What is it, Cas?”

                “I’m talking about you.”

                “Okay, Cas.” Then the words hit him and he freezes. “Hang on. What?”

                Castiel misinterprets Dean’s reaction and gets up off the couch, shuffling toward the door. “If you don’t want to work with me with the knowledge that I feel this way, I understand.  I just think I’ve been keeping this to myself for long enough. And now I guess I’ll—”

                “Cas!” Dean stops him when his hand is already on the doorknob. “Hang on for a second.” He scrambles off the couch.

                “Wh—” Before he can finish that thought—whatever it may have been—Dean has him pressed up against the door, with their lips pressed firmly together. Dean has already knotted a hand into Cas’ hair, while his other hand supports him against the door.

                Whatever Castiel might have been expecting, it was not this, and it takes him a few moments for his mind to adjust and acknowledge the fact that Dean is kissing him. The realization comes to him with a jolt and he begins to reciprocate with great enthusiasm, grabbing Dean at the waist and pulling him even closer, eliminating whatever miniscule space remains between them.

                It takes all of Dean’s self-control to stop the kiss. When he pulls away, he feels sorely tempted to carry on with a newfound zeal because Castiel is heartily flushed and those lips are just begging to be kissed again. But he doesn’t kiss Cas again. Instead, he says, “I’m not straight.”

                “So I gathered.”

                “What on earth gave you the impression that I _was_? You’ve never seen me interact with much of anybody, now that I think about it; not outside of your family, at least. So why does that automatically mean I’m straight?”

                Cas shrugs. “When I asked Anna if the two of you ever had a thing, she said she wasn’t ‘your type’. I didn’t think she meant that women in general aren’t ‘your type’; I more assumed that just… Anna wasn’t.”

                Dean is about to respond, and then considers Cas’ statement more carefully. “You asked Anna if she and I ever hooked up?”

                “Did I say that?” He looks moderately alarmed by his own revelation, and Dean gets the impression that Cas said more than he intended to. “What I meant to say was—”

                “I guarantee that you’re not getting out of this.”

                Castiel pulls Dean toward him again and kisses him for only a moment. “I will admit that I wanted to make sure that I didn’t have a crush on someone my sister had dated.”

                “Fair enough.” Dean kisses him again lazily. This time, when he pulls away, his eyes are wide.

                “What is it, Dean?”

                He looks at Cas, torn between alarm and amusement. “What is Sam going to say when I tell him that I’m dating the lead singer of The Seraphim?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the immense delay in posting a new chapter; I was waiting for inspiration to strike, and today it did.


	8. Chapter 8

                “Thank fucking God!” Dean pulls the phone away from his ear, startled, and stares at it for a few moments. When he risks listening in again, Sam is laughing. “Took you long enough. So are you going to bring him to my wedding? Jess'll want to know for the sake of table settings.”

                "Christ, like I've thought that far ahead…"

                "It's a month. That's not too far."

                Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "We'll see. I'll talk to you soon."

                "Hey, wait! He's not a vegetarian, is he, because—" Dean does not wait. He hangs up on Sam, but he doesn't think that his brother will mind too horribly. He shoves his phone into his pocket and rests his elbows on the table and leans forward, smiling at Cas. "Well, my brother has given you his blessing."

                "Now we just need to ask mine for theirs."

                As if on cue, Gabriel appears at the table bearing their lunch. He chortles. "We've been placing bets since you hired him. Balthazar won, in case you were wondering."

                "We weren't," Cas mutters.

                "You couldn't have waited a week? Then I would have—"

                "Thanks for the food, Gabe!" Dean raises his eyebrows and shoos him away with his fork.

                "Alright, alright, I can take a hint…"

                "News to me."

                Dean and Castiel wait for Gabriel to slink away, silently eating their food until he returns to the kitchen. "Remind me again why we came here?" Dean asks.

                Cas gestures in the general direction of Gabe. "I figured we should get that over with as soon as possible."

                "Get what over with?"

\--

                _It has become evident that Castiel Milton may have had some ulterior motives in hiring Dean Winchester as the new manager of_ The Seraphim _._

\--

                When Gabriel opens the door, he doesn't even bother to pretend. "Did you like your feature in the tabloids?"

                Castiel scowls. "That was not exactly the type of article I was expecting to see. You made Dean sound like… I don't know what."

                "A prostitute?" Gabriel supplies. "I thought it sounded vaguely prostitute-ish when I read the article this morning. They probably could have painted him in a better light, but you know about the lengths they'll go to in order to make stories sound more interesting."

                As he brushes past his brother, Cas makes a point to bump him a little harder than necessary. "The lengths _you'll_ go to, you mean."

                "If you like." Gabriel nudges the door shut and follows Castiel into the living room. The two brothers stand with a few yards separating them, evidently sizing each other up. Gabe doesn't seem to think that Cas is going to do much of anything. After all, Cas never does much.

                "I'm getting fucking tired of this bull shit."

                Not the direction that Gabriel was expecting this conversation to go. He frowns slightly, but his expression almost immediately returns to neutral. He squeezes past Cas and settles into a chair, looking up at his brother with a forced almost-smile. "Cassie, c'mon now."

                "Don't 'Cassie' me. We're brothers, Gabe." Cas starts to pace back and forth across the floor. "Siblings antagonize one another sometimes, fine. But do you really find this funny? Do you really think this is _okay_? There's nothing okay about publicly embarrassing your siblings on a weekly basis."

                "Why not?"

                Cas squints at his brother. "Are you serious?"

                Gabriel shrugs. "I don't know, Cassie, you know my moral compass has always been a bit… off."

                "If by, 'a bit off,' you mean completely off-kilter, then yes, I agree with you. But even morally ambiguous people generally have some sense of concern for their own flesh and blood. I get the impression that you just don't give a damn how much you hurt our feelings. And maybe that's partially my fault, because you seem to think that no matter how much you fuck up, we'll forgive you. And I don't know, Gabe, I'm getting tired of forgiving you."

                "You're-you're not serious."

                "I'm very serious. I'm serious when I say that you legitimately hurt Dean's feelings, and you hurt my feelings as well. And I've come to the realization that I don't need to put up with you being this way. I can ask you to stop, and if you refuse, then I am in no way obligated to speak with you ever again. Don't you think that might be something of which I can be assured?"

                Never before has Castiel spoken to Gabriel like this, and it's having a very crippling effect on Gabe's ability to remain composed. "I-I suppose, but Cassie…" Cas raises his eyebrows expectantly. "What did I even do—"

                "Stop right there; that's proof enough for me." He turns on his heel and strolls back to the door.

                "Cassie, wait! You're my brother, for God's sake!"

                Cas does stop, though not for the reason that his brother would like. "Yes, I am your brother, which is why I have every reason to expect more of you than this." He opens the door.

                "Wait! Castiel, please, just—"

                It's too late. Gabriel is alone.

                At recording sessions over the course of the following week, Cas and Gabe's falling out weighs on the siblings, even though none of them want to be the first to make mention of the subject. Dean places a great deal of the blame on himself. The Miltons do too, although in a different way. Castiel didn't start to care until Dean showed up, they notice. Or if he did care before, he kept his mouth shut about it until Dean showed up. They acknowledge that it probably would have happened eventually even without Dean, but all of them—even Cas, to an extent—feel that he was probably the catalyst for an explosion waiting to happen.

                Dean addresses this, eventually. He chooses to do so during some downtime for Cas at the recording studio, while they're sitting in the control room with Chuck and listening to Anna record. "Have I fucked up the dynamic of your family?"

                Chuck glances at them out of the corner of his eye, but he says nothing. Castiel, on the other hand, looks startled. "What are you talking about? Of course you haven't."

                "I kind of feel like I have. You and Gabe were getting along fine without me around. Who's to say your family wouldn't be better off without me?"

                "All of us would say that!" Cas looks outraged.

                "I'd _definitely_ say that," Chuck mutters. When Dean and Cas glare at him, he puts his hands up defensively. "If you don't want my input, don't have serious conversations in my booth."

                Dean jumps up out of his chair and opens the door, looking at Cas expectantly. As the two of them leave the room, Chuck calls after them, "Seriously Dean, the Miltons were a mess before you."

                Out in the waiting room, Dean makes sure to put some distance between him and Castiel, standing on the other side of the room. "Cas, I still lose sleep almost every night trying to figure out why you and your siblings hired me. I am terrified that I'll make one wrong move and you guys will be stuck trying to fix it. But I can live with that. What I can't live with is the idea that I could be ripping your family apart. Family…" He falters, and Cas waits patiently for him to continue. "Family is the most important thing you could have."

                "What happened between Gabriel and myself happened because I chose it, not because you made it happen."

                "But you chose to do something about it because of what they wrote about me. About us."

                Cas doesn't know how Dean will react to him moving closer, but he risks it anyway, stepping a few feet toward him; Dean stays glued to the spot, watching him carefully. "I confronted him about something that has been bothering me for a very long time. And I've let him do it. But he has no right to portray you the way he did." Dean attempts to interrupt, but Cas puts up a hand to silence him as he takes a few more steps in his direction. "This is not your fault. You're not breaking up my family; you're a part of my family. Understand?"

                "I guess." Dean frowns and looks down at the floor. "Just… remind me sometimes, Cas."

                "Of course. I have every intention of doing so." He closes the rest of the distance between them, and when he puts his arms around Dean for a hug, it is heartily returned.

                Dean's face is buried in his neck when he voices the question. "You wanna come to Sam's wedding with me?"

                "What?" Cas pushes away slightly so that he can examine Dean. "Do you really want me there?"

                "Sure I do. I can also invoke the 'you're a part of my family' sentiment, right? Also, Sam wants you to meet Jess."

                "When is it?"

                "Two weeks."

                Cas raises his eyebrows. "You didn't mention that you'd be taking time off in two weeks." Dean scowls, but the other man quickly wipes that scowl off of his lips with a kiss. "I would very much like to come, Dean. Thank you."

                They return to the control room, and though Chuck's focus is still on Anna, he says, "So did you guys kiss and make up?"

                "Remind me again why we tolerate your attitude?" Cas asks as he takes the seat beside Chuck once more.

                "Simple: because I tolerate all four of the Miltons and their manager—who I hear tell only got job because the lead singer desperately wanted to bone him." Dean knocks Chuck upside the head so hard that his headset almost falls off, but Chuck just looks back at him with a playful grin.


End file.
